Romantic Tragedies
by mer solitare
Summary: The poem 'The Highwayman' Harry Potter style. Featuring HG/SS. R for character deaths and cussing.


Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me. Yup, I'm not JKR. Po' me. I'm not getting money for this twisted retelling of The Highwayman. The Highwayman isn't mine either. I own nothing!! ::not even my sick, twisted mind. damn penguins::

The wind was blowing fiercely, sending withered leaves across the grass. In the distance an animal was keening in pain, sounding strangely human-like. Overhead dark clouds drifted across the sky, turning it a deep, roiling purple. The moon was shining an icy white, lighting up a small wooden cottage on the outskirts of Hogsmeade. 

This house was old and ramshackle, with rotted shutters and ivy growing unchecked across its front. Weeds turned the front yard into a veritable jungle that nearly made the Amazon look well kept. It had a collapsed picket fence guarding it, though no one ever tried to sneak in to the house. It was commonly known as the Shrieking Shack, former abode of a werewolf and, so the villagers said, the most haunted house in all of Britain. Currently it was the meeting place of a Gryffindor seventh-year and her lover, a professor at her school.

Hermione Granger, Head Girl at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, had discovered the house in her third year while chasing down a friend, and, unbeknownst to her, a servant of the Dark Lord. She had quickly grown to like the place- it was the perfect spot for piece and quiet. 

Over the next three years she had transformed it into a relatively admirable hideaway for her to go to when her room in the school became too noisy or claustrophobic. By the time she entered her sixth-year she was sleeping there nearly every night. Every night after curfew she would sneak out of the Gryffindor Common Room and down to the Whomping Willow, where she would walk down the tunnel which led to the shack. Then she would read books late into the night and sneak back to the school before the sun rose. It was an excellent system. Or so she thought.

Then, late one October night, on the way to the Whomping Willow, she was caught by Professor Snape, the Potions master and Head of Slytherin, and to nearly every person in the school, resident evil bastard. She had panicked and begged him not to tell anyone about her whereabouts. He had merely glared at her for a few minutes and then, quite unexpectedly, told her he would not tell.

For a price- allow him to come there every so often.

She had agreed almost instantly, pleased her hideaway wouldn't be taken from her. And so the Shrieking Shack had become the meeting place for two completely different and yet kindred souls.

By the time January rolled around she had come to enjoy the Potions master's company. He was still caustic of course, but was a great intellect. He loved Potions with a passion and had begun to teach her advanced ones. He was quickly becoming a friend to her. In fact, she felt closer to him than she did to her friends. 

Then on a dreary Tuesday night in May everything changed.

She was in 'Elysium', as she had named it, reading an advanced Transfiguration text when she heard a large thump. She looked up from her book as Severus came storming into the room. For a minute he glared at her. Then he crossed the room in three strides, all the while looking as if Potions-making had been deemed illegal. He grabbed her book and placed it on a rickety table next to her and studied her for a few minutes.

Then he kissed her.

His kisses were hard, demanding, almost bruising… and yet Hermione felt oddly aroused by them. She moaned and scooted closer to him, completely forgetting the fact that he was _Snape, _that Harry and Ron would kill her if they found out, that student-teacher relationships were a major school offense. He picked her up, causing her to instinctively wrap her legs around him. Still kissing, he carried her into her bedroom.

From that moment on she and Severus were lovers. They still meet in the Shrieking Shack, still fought in class, still acted like the bossy, know-it-all Head Girl and bitter, ruthless Potions master. Everything was exactly the same, but completely different.

They were star-crossed lovers, doomed to tragedy and despair. 

This was how Hermione Granger came to be seated in the Shrieking Shack on the night the story begins. She was seated on a small couch in front of a cracked widow, staring at the night sky. She sighed in apprehension- stormy nights always filled her with uneasiness and Severus still hadn't shown up. Usually he was there by eleven o'clock and it was now near one in the morning. He was _never_ late. Unless of course a Death Eater meeting was coming up.

She was beginning to feel slightly worried.

As if on cue, he burst into the room, a large scowl (even for him) on his face. She jumped up from her seat and hurried over to him.

"What's wrong?"

Severus merely sighed wearily and dropped into an old blue armchair near her. He slouched over and began to rub his temples vigorously. Then he muttered the three words Hermione had been dreading.

"I've been Summoned."

Hermione nodded dully and sat down on the armrest next to him. Wordlessly Severus slipped his arm around her waist and pulled her into his lap. Hermione sighed and leaned into him. "I hate this. Every time you leave I'm afraid I'll never see you again. How long does this have to go on?!" She said almost hysterically, her words muffled by his robes. 

Severus didn't reply. Gently he stroked her hair and then placed her on the floor and stood up. For a minute she wavered, too weak to stand. Severus placed a hand underneath her chin, forcing her to look at him. "I'll be back by tomorrow, even if I have to go through hell to reach you. I promise, Hermione." Hermione nodded weakly, trying to look confident in his spy abilities. Severus smiled and kissed her.

Then in a flurry of black robes he Apparated away.

Hermione slowly walked into their bedroom and sat down on the bed. She grabbed a small green pillow and buried her face in it. Then she slumped over and began to sob. She cried for an eternity, it seemed. Finally she stopped, unable to shed any more tears. She rolled onto her side and curled up into a ball. A few minutes later she fell into an exhausted slumber.

That was how the Death Eaters found her the next morning.

Sunlight warmed her face, making her grimace in annoyance. She groaned and rolled over, trying to ignore the light hitting her face. That was when she hit something warm and slightly silky.

Something that felt exactly like a person dressed in silken robes.

She gasped and sat up, instantly awake. The person next to her laughed coldly. "Decide to join the party, have you?" He turned to face her, ashen eyes staring at her through the holes of a steely mask.

Death Eaters.

She screamed and scrambled backwards until she hit the headboard of the bed. Around her men laughed, chilling her very soul. The man with the gray eyes chuckled and moved toward her. He grabbed her by her wrists and yanked her up off the bed. She winced as he began to bind her wrists with coarse rope. 

"Never been tied up before, _pet_?" You are missing out. It makes things much more _interesting_." Hermione's eyes widened as she took in the implications of his remark. He smiled sadistically at her expression and mockingly caressed her cheek. Turning to the men behind him he said, "Tie her to the bed. Then guard the windows. Watch for the traitor."

With that he shoved her toward the other men, who quickly tied her to the bed. She struggled vainly, trying to escape. The Death Eaters merely watched her for a few seconds before turning away to stand guard at the windows. The lead Death Eater, who reminded her of Draco Malfoy for some reason, drew a small revolver from his robes and slipped it beneath her ropes, making her shiver as the cold metal touched her neck.

"I could just use a wand to kill you, but guns are just more fun. Besides, little Mudblood, it does add a certain irony to the situation. Born a Muggle, die a Muggle" Once more he patted her on the cheek, before continuing, "Now you be a good little girl and keep watch." She hissed like an enraged cat and spat at him. He merely laughed and slowly wiped her spit from his cheek.

"You're such a pretty little lioness, pet. You and your damn Gryffindor bravery. Remember pet, you're just a little caged animal. Roar all you want, it'll do you no good."

Hermione swallowed and closed her eyes, wishing desperately for this to be a dream. Quietly she began to cry as she thought of Severus' words from last night.

__

I'll be back by tomorrow, even if I have to go through hell to reach you. I promise…

She knew without a doubt he would be back. And then the Death Eaters would kill him. She had to save him, even if it meant she would die in his place. Frantically she began to rub her wrists together. Twisting her left hand, she began to pick at the bindings on her right. She kept at it for hours, glancing up every so often to make sure the Death Eaters couldn't see what she was doing. They didn't, as they were all staring out the windows of the room. Every so often they would start whispering to one another until their leader sharply told them to shut up.

All too soon it was nightfall, almost time for Severus to return. She could feel blood dripping down her blistered wrists but kept going. Slowly the knots loosened inch by painful inch. Suddenly the ropes frayed and slipped apart, lessening the pressure on her hands. She grinned and began to wriggle her hands around. Reaching up as far as she could she grabbed the revolver's handle and tugged. It slid an inch and caught on the ropes across her breast. Good enough. Once more she wriggled her hand, and grabbed the trigger. She wrapped her index finger around it, ready to pull back.

Then she waited.

From their spots near the dusty windows the Death Eaters began to complain loudly. A thickset, almost bald one began to whine, saying, "This is pointless! He's never coming back. The Lord probably told him about this. Can't we just kill the Mudblood and leave?" The leader turned around quickly and advanced on the other man. He withdrew his wand from his robes and poked the whining man in the chest.

"We don't leave until the traitor and Mudblood are killed. Now shut your fucking mouth before I curse you with Cruciatus." The shorter man backed away, hastily muttering a 'yes sir.' The ashen-eyed man laughed and twirled his wand in his fingers, then walked back to his corner.

Hermione watched silently from the bed, all the more scared. If the cold one was perfectly capable of torturing his own men, what would he do to Severus? Quickly she chased that thought from her mind, determined to keep Severus alive.

That was when she heard a faint rustling noise that sounded suspiciously like robes dragging the ground. She straightened up, slightly cocking her head to the side to hear better. 

Yes, it was definitely a person. She stared at the Death Eaters, watching them for any signs to suggest they heard the noise. None of them did. Hermione snickered quietly, feeling slightly hysterical. _For trained and ruthless killers they sure do have pathetic sensory_ _skills_. _How the hell do they survive without being ambushed? _

The rustling grew louder, causing the lead Death Eater to look up at the bedroom door and grin evilly. Quietly he signaled to the other Death Eaters, who quickly withdrew their wands from their robes and backed into the corners of the room, ready to attack.

Hermione squeezed her eyes shut and inhaled shakily. Silently she opened her mouth, trying to pray that her plan would work. Instead she merely squeaked. 

__

Courage, girl. You're a Gryffindor. Be brave, be brave… Her mantra calmed her, making her feel a little less afraid.

For a moment she opened her eyes and smirked directly at the lead Death Eater. He looked at her, startled. "I can do much more than roar, you bastard."

Then her finger drew back and shattered the silence with a deafening bang. 

Outside the Shrieking Shack Severus stopped as he heard the loud bang. He stared at the house, black eyes unreadable. Vaguely he recognized that sound but couldn't remember where from. Then someone began to curse loudly from the dilapidated building.

For a moment Severus paused, debating whether or not Hermione was in the building. _I_ _did told her I would be back tonight… Then again, she may be waiting at the school, not wanting to be caught out on the grounds on a night like this. _Making up his mind heturned andbolted for the school. 

Within the Shrieking Shack the Death Eaters cursed angrily as they stared at the bloody body of Hermione Granger sprawled on her bed. Uttering a particularly nasty word, the leader turned and motioned at the others to go outside. Once there he motioned for them to spread out and hide.

"We wait. He'll be back."

Down the street lights clicked on as awoken villagers stumbled out of bed to investigate the sound. Arriving in the street they began to whisper, all trying to decide what the sound was. One of them, an ex-Auror named Alfred Noyes, said, "Gunshot. Heard plenty of 'em while fighting He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named." The others gasped in terror, all wondering if Death Eaters were nearby. Squaring his shoulders, Noyes walked up the path to the abandoned home to investigate.

Quietly unlocking the door, he snuck into the house, arriving in an empty parlor. Swiftly he searched downstairs and then headed upstairs to what he assumed were the bedrooms. Arriving in the first one, he looked at the bed.

And nearly retched as he saw the bloody body of a young girl sprawled across it, blood staining her bushy brown hair a deep crimson. Forgetting to search for anyone else, he turned and ran out of the house.

Arriving on the street, he gasped, "Girl. Dead. Bushy haired, looked like a seventh-year student. Had a gold scarf near her." Next to him, a witch trembled and whispered, "Hermione Granger. She used to come into Flourish and Blotts on the weekend for new books."

Noyes turned and ran for the school to alert the Headmaster. Halfway across the school grounds he noticed a man in black robes swiftly walking to the school. Gathering up his strength, he yelled, " Sir, we need help!"

Severus stopped and turned around to stare at the man a few yards away. The man was red-faced and sweating, and looked panicked. Severus strode toward the man and halted in front of him, waiting. The man began to speak hurriedly.

"Girl dead. Shrieking Shack. Hermione Grang-"

Severus didn't hear the rest of the man words. He roared in anger, and ran like a madman, heading for the Shrieking Shack. His black robes billowed behind him, making him look as if he was flying. Behind him Noyes shouted angrily, asking what he was doing.

Severus ignored him. His face was twisted into an anguished grimace, his eyes glinting dangerously. Nearing the shack he raised his wand prepared to kill whoever had killed Hermione.

He never did.

Quietly the lead Death Eater stood up and said, "Avada Kedavra."

Severus never noticed the green light rushing towards him. He fell with a thump, to lie sprawled in the weeds, his sightless black eyes staring at the harvest moon.

__

And sometimes, say the people of Hogsmeade, when the wind blows fiercely beneath a harvest moon, a lone figure in black can be seen walking toward the Shrieking Shack as a young girl waits at the window.

A.N. Obviously the plot is from the wonderful poem, "The Highwayman" by Alfred Noyes, who is the ex-Auror in the story. And yes, Severus probably wouldn't lose control like that, but he's shocked. Therefore he isn't thinking clearly. The story's just odd but oh well… Review and I shall bow down and worship you.


End file.
